


The Consulting Actor | Matchmaker, Magnussen: Or, How CAM made Johnlock canon

by TheConsultingActor



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:48:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheConsultingActor/pseuds/TheConsultingActor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnussen as a direct representation of the parts of Sherlock that keep him and John apart helps make sense of much of the emotional confusion of HLV, and bodes very, very well for Johnlock as future canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Consulting Actor | Matchmaker, Magnussen: Or, How CAM made Johnlock canon

 

I’ve never written meta before, but I’ve had a lot of ideas about season 3 (and especially about HLV) chasing around my head and the amazing meta coming from the fandom inspired me to get some of them out on paper. Please feel free to share any thoughts, disagreements, alternate views etc.—I’m totally up for discussion. Just to be clear from the get-go, I have absolutely nothing against Adlock or Sherlolly!  This is what I see as Sherlock’s subconscious perception of  himself, not a personal judgement on the idea of a straight Sherlock.

I’ve seen a lot of disagreement on HLV, and I think a lot of that stems from the fact that, much like TSoT, the story doesn’t work cohesively if taken at face value, especially as a Johnlock shipper. But I’ve found over the past couple of weeks that tracking Magnussen throughout HLV gives a huge amount of insight into the trajectory of Johnlock. In the same way that TSoT shows Sherlock realizing his feelings, HLV shows Sherlock learning how to act on them. Specifically, viewing **Magnussen as a direct representation of the parts of Sherlock that keep him and John apart helps make sense of much of the emotional confusion of HLV, and bodes very, very well for Johnlock as future canon**. **So that’s the premise I’m working off of—Magnussen=Sherlock as we’ve seen him up until now. Magnussen had so much hype and was such a central part of the plot, but I personally (and from what I’ve read, plenty of other fans) felt his arc was a bit anticlimactic. Here’s why:**

Starting right in, Magnussen’s name opens the episode. Interesting fact about the change from Milver- to Magnus—Magnus was a 3rd Century usurper in the roman senate who wanted to overthrow Maximus but was executed. Which is basically the role that Magnussen plays for Sherlock and John (although on the surface it would seem to be John and Mary.) Our first shot of the episode:

Shows a blurry Magnussen with lines of light connecting his left eye and the left lens of the glasses. The first scene is shot through Magnussen’s perspective, blurry before the glasses are put on, and then sharpening. All of this emphasizes Magnussen’s dependence on the glasses. We know that the glasses are used as a red herring, which I personally found a bit disappointing after so much “these are really important!” buildup. It seemed a bit useless to give us so much meaning and then discard it. On a literal level that works, but in terms of subtext? It doesn’t make so much sense. And the literal level doesn’t seem to have been a big concern of theirs  this season, anyway.  So, what do glasses symbolize? Intellegence. Rationality. Blindness without them. Narrowed-down worldviews. And they also happen to be conductors of light. **If Magnussen is Sherlock, his glasses are John.** That’s the heart of the story Moftiss is telling here, and they give it to us in the opening shot. 

            So, we have a man who uses knowledge without physical harm (if you don’t count licking faces as physical harm—this opposes Moriarty, who’s all about action and represents Sherlock’s fear. Magnussen is Sherlock’s disgust and self-loathing) who keeps no one close. Who is dependent on his light conductor to see, but uses it as nothing more than a tool (ASiP). Who seemingly keeps nobody emotionally close but is obsessed with gathering information (TBB). Who professes not to care about saving lives, because what he really enjoys is playing the game (TGG). Who’s into “bad girls” (ASiB. CAM’s own words). Who watches his assistants squirm under his needling (THoB). And who ruins the people around him (TRF).  Oh look, a Sherlock fault for every episode! And this is the man Sherlock hates most in the world.

The first in-focus shot we get of Magnussen is only of the lower left quarter of his face, showing just his mouth in a way that I can only describe as creepily pornographic. Next we get a shot of the opposite corner of his face—just his right eye as he puts on and strokes his glasses. And his eyes are almost the same color as Sherlock’s (he has similar cheekbones, too—two of Sherlock’s most discussed physical traits.) The first pressure point we see is an adulterer with normal porn preferences—but his adultery isn’t his pressure point. His family (daughter) is. (This instantly reminded me of the conversation between Mrs. Hudson and John in TSoT—getting a lot of adultery foreshadowing, aren’t we?). Then, we see Magnussen discover Smallwood’s pressure point—“husband.” (Interesting contrast to the fact that we only see Magnussen use Mary’s past as a pressure point and not John, her husband, although it’s clear he’s a big motivator of hers. That puts some perspective on John’s lack of Sherlock as a pressure point. That’s just what Magnussen does to couples.) The scene closes with Magnussen’s line “I have an excellent memory.” Hmm, remind anybody of a certain detective?

 We next get to see Magnussen’s lair. And it’s very curvy. In fact, the whole thing is modeled on a nautilus shell, which is famous for following the golden mean. Basically, it’s full of natural curves known for being particularly pleasing to the eye. I kept thinking it was an odd choice for a villain’s lair—it’s not all that threatening. But it does have quite a traditionally “feminine” vibe. That’s something that kept making me uncomfortable throughout the episode—I kept coming back to a vague feeling of woman=baaaad, not just in Mary’s storyline but all of HLV. I’ll talk about why as this goes on. So, we see Magnussen going through curvy hills to get to his pale, curvy house. You know what the color scheme looks a bit like?

 

Interestingly enough, Magnussen is straight, unlike Moriarty, which is a big part of his creepiness in this episode—all the face-licking and “baaad girl” whispering are very important to his aura of evil. This is to emphasize the idea that a straight version of Sherlock isn’t “right.”

             The room with the entrance to his “vaults” has three important objects:

A sculpture of a man riding an ostrich holding a sword (ostriches=denial, sticking their heads in the sand, swords=penises. Pseudo-Freudian symbols are huuuuge in TV) a vaguely vagina-shaped piece of art made of flesh-colored wood (sorry, I’m terrible at screenshots! It’s behind John), and a magnifying glass (and we all know who uses magnifying glasses when cluing for looks.)

            Magnussen’s mind palace, too, looks a little bit like a cramped and cluttered version of Sherlock’s (which, of course, is from his first case with John)

But Magnussen’s has much more bright, childish colors and broken toys—this is Sherlock stuck in childhood emotionally. It also includes ladders, although the roof of his palace doesn’t look particularly high. We see a lot of stairs and ladders in this episode, which symbolyze two things—visiting the subconscious (where Sherlock does his maturation) and, if you buy into Freud, sex. (he considered steep ups and downs symbolic of sex. Wonder if that has any application to Reichenbach…) It even has a bust of a woman wearing headphones, much like the cow skull in 221B.

            Then we get more of Magnussen being creepy towards females. Sure does have a habit of licking women, doesn’t he? First the photo, then Smallwood. But before he licks her face, he grabs her hand…in front of the fire. This is a callback to Sherlock and Irene’s conversation about having “dinner” in ASiB. It’s our first real evidence of why the show is giving us so many “women are creepy” messages—it’s showing us the wrongness of Sherlock with women by showing a version of Sherlock being horrible to every woman he comes across. He even says “yum, yum,” recalling the idea of dinner in an absolutely disgusting context. He sniffs her wrist, too, bringing attention to the location of the pulse. Like Magnussen, at the end of ASiB Sherlock held Irene’s fate in his hands. That’s always been Sherlock’s dynamic with women (think Molly, think Sarah, think of his treatment of Janine throughout the episode—this isn’t a pattern that changes. Sherlock undergoes a character shift, but not for the sake of women). Where is the change in Sherlock’s ownership? Who does he think he owns at the beginning that he dramatically relinquishes ownership of ? John.

            Moving right along, we get Smallwood looking in her compact mirror as she whispers Magnussen’s name. The mirror is a window to the soul, and in the world of Sherlock, the woman’s mirror is tiny and used only for makeup. This contrasts the Baker Street mirror, which (as LSiT pointed out in her fantastic meta on TBB), must be big enough to hold John and Sherlock as a pair. She then tells her driver to take her to Baker Street. She doesn’t specifically say to take her to Sherlock Holmes’ office on Baker Street, even though she makes this demand in the context of people who can stop Magnussen, and Sherlock’s quite famous. Because Magnussen (read: Sherlock’s worst self) can only be vanquished by what Baker Street symbolizes—John and Sherlock together.

            The next CAM-related tidbit we’re given is the billboard: “information is the power to change,” which also tells us that information and understanding is what Sherlock needs to change (and that’s what we saw him getting in TSoT). This episode is all about Sherlock dealing with his love for John—acknowledging it and using it to grow.

            In the drug den, we get another staircase, this one taking John to Sherlock. And it’s covered in wrought iron hearts.

            In the lab, when John asks Shezza “What kind of case would need you doing this?” Shezza instantly replies “I might as well ask why you’ve started cycling to work.” The distraction Shezza chooses to escape the idea of Magnussen is deductions about John’s body and what he’s been putting between his legs/riding. That’s what he uses as the antithesis of CAM’s disturbingly rapey heterosexuality. That’s combined with the fact that John is always ready to pack to escape life with Mary is what Sherlock uses to distract from the idea of drugs. 

            Cross-dressing would, according to Mycroft, have suited him better than the abuse that Magnussen and what he represents causes Sherlock to inflict upon himself. Although not nearly so simple in real life, cross-dressing is commonly associated in mainstream media with homosexuality much more than heterosexuality. Being openly gay is what would have (and will) save Sherlock.

            The ‘horror’ (as it’s treated) hiding in the bedroom isn’t a drug but heterosexual sex in the form of Janine, who as we know is CAM’s p.a. This connects Magnussen, heterosexual sex, and “badness” into one big, messy ball of subtext.

            When Mycroft asks him “What case could possibly justify this?” he’s asking what is causing Sherlock to throw away everything that matters to him. When Sherlock responds “Magnussen,” he means his worst identity, the things that keep John scared of a relationship, the things that keep Sherlock “safely” alone. His self identification as a psychopath, a manipulator, “heartless,” and someone who values John for what he can give Sherlock rather than who he is as a human being fall into that category. And they are all traits of CAM’s. Sherlock tells Mycroft that he considers him “under his (CAM’s) thumb,” and the old Sherlock had everyone—especially John—under his thumb. To use Sherlock’s own word, this now “appauls” him. And going against Magnussen means going against Mycroft—who was instrumental in forming the cold Sherlock that we see in much of the first two series.

            It’s important to note that he only uses Janine to get to Magnussen—his only heterosexual relationship is tied in his mind to the only person he truly hates. Also, Sherlock “recruits” John while opening a door to undress. Just sayin’. 

            “You have a girlfriend.” “Yes, I have. Now, Magnussen looks like a shark.” So Sherlock’s train of though goes girlfriend=Magnussen=danger. And if a=b and b=c, a=c. Girlfriend ties directly to danger, to “badness” in Sherlock’s mind. Similarly, when Sherlock says “I’ve met murderers, psychopaths……none of them can turn my stomach like Charles Augustus Magnussen.” And John instantly replies “Yes, you have,” and goes on to talk about girlfriends. This construction makes it sound like what can turn Sherl’s stomach like Magnussen is a girlfriend. Then John starts talking about having “dinner,” very upset because Sherly is so wrapped up in Magnussen that he’s completely neglecting John’s emotions. And John needs to be emotionally satisfied before “dinner” is a feasible option for Sherlock and John.

            Sherlock keeps his doorbell in the fridge—he’s also kept himself so cold that he doesn’t see the damage his Magnussen-self is capable of wreaking until that damage is on his doorstep. Until it’s too late. Jokes in Sherlock are never just funny.

            Sherlock’s fairly comfortable with Magnussen’s men examining his body, but says “oh, he’s fine” very impatiently when they head for John—he doesn’t want Magnussen or his men anywhere near John’s body. That’s too sacred. Only someone very special deserves to touch John’s body, and Sherlock knows that CAM (that version of himself) isn’t worthy. He’s especially taken aback by the penis shaped objects that a man on his knees is able to remove from their hiding places in John’s clothing.

            When Magnussen comes in, he is reflected in the Sherlock-and-John mirror broken and fragmented. Magnussen can’t exist in the same world as Sherlock-and-John. We know this is true from the end of the episode, too.

Like Sherlock, he turns the location of his latest game into his office. And he, too, puts people “on mute.” This meeting parallels Sherlock and Moriarty’s meeting at 221B, but here there are 3 major differences: Moriarty and Sherlock seemed fairly equal. But here, Sherlock is falling victim to his own worst self. Luckily for him, though, this time he isn’t alone—his doctor is here to help him heal himself. And in this version, Sherlock’s foil sits not in Sherlock’s chair, but in a position reminiscent of a client. This time, he’s a problem to eliminate rather than a game to play.

            Part of the reason Sherlock as a character is so confusing in this episode is that as we see him growing, we see him flipping back and forth between CAM!Sherlock and the new self he’s developing. We are seeing two people, and they are in constant conflict—and sometimes even both present at once.

            Going back to the scene, we get the “English with a spine” comment, which also describes John quite well. Here, Magnussen’s abuse surves a dual purpose—it reinforces the heterosexuality-being-not-right vibe, and tells us more about Sherlock’s relationship with John. This exchange gives insight into both why he likes him separately from what John can give Sherlock, and why they couldn’t work as a couple before—he’d been manipulating John both consciously and unconsciously (much like Magnussen does with people and countries). Magnussen then looks directly at John while describing how “domesticated” he believes the English are—which is what Sherlock sees John as at his worst, when he’s treating John as an object or an experiment rather than a living thing.

            Oh, the fireplace. It doesn’t get much more symbolic than this. The fireplace is the heart of 221B, and therefore the heart of Sherlock and John’s relationship. It’s also deeply connected to Sherl’s sexuality—his most sexual conversation (the “dinner” conversation with Irene) and his most sexually charged actions (the drunken rizla game) both take place in front of this fire. Also going back to Freud, it’s another hollow thing that’s literally penetrated by Magnussen’s penis. So basically, Magnussen (again, read the worst, coldest parts of Sherlock) just pissed on the heart of John and Sherlock’s relationship, Sherlock’s latent sexuality, and once again demonstrated the creepiness (in Sherlock’s mind) of straight!Sherlock. He goes on to explain that “If it works here, I try it in a real country.” Hey, remember who left to solve crimes in other countries, breaking John’s heart along the way? Well, this scene is is subconscious guilt showing. Magnussen keeps out of need (as with the letters on Lady Smallwood). Sherlock is starting to acknowledge that he needs to learn to let John stay out of desire, or leave out of a lack of it.

            Once Magnussen has left and Sherlock tells John that he’s coming along tonight (again, taking ownership of John. They have to make us feel the wrongness of this to give the character change power), he instructs him not to bring “a gun, or a knife, or a tire lever.” Cough *pop psychology* Cough *weapon=penis* Cough. With this current version of Sherlock, poor John won’t have an opportunity to use his weapons, no matter how much he wants to. Keep that in mind with the guns for the rest of the episode—these are the people who wrote “meat dagger.”

            “Mary and I think 7.” The version of Sherlock who hasn’t yet matured enough to earn John comments on John’s body in the same way that Mary does.

            Now, onto the flat breakin. Borrowing from LSiT’s brilliant metas on both The Blind Banker and The Sign of Three, this is another instance of locked-room-as-Sherlock’s heart. There are “14 layers of security” between Sherlock, John, and Sherlock’s own heart. In TSoT we saw Sherlock realize the contents of his heart. This episode is basically him doing spring cleaning and opening the doors to make it nice and cozy for Jawn. But his discovery in the previous episode doesn’t make opening his heart easy. Sherlock will do the breaking in himself, but this time he takes John with him. Only someone who looks like the owner of that heart, someone who can be a “positive i.d.” in some way (Sherlock himself, who still hasn’t matured enough) can break in—which is part of why Sherlock is so cold in this episode. He is retreating into himself so he’ll be able to open up.

            With the proposal, we have more evidence that Sherlock uses Janine to open himself to John—John’s jealousy is another push for Sherlock to change (and he needs all the pushing he can get to undo a lifetime of Mycroft’s lessons on humanity.) 

This is quite important. Sherlock will let John enter (his heart) with him, but he wants to take charge of the entering (he’s effectively saying that this is his territory, let him do it and control how they enter.) Here, we see that Sherlock is, for the first time, willing to take charge of the relationship, that he is open to making the next move (which is good, considering how rightfully angry John is by now.) What a change from ASiP. And once again, we see a woman used to unlock the door to Sherlock’s heart for John and Sherlock to enter together, much like the role Irene played for John in ASiB. But Janine doesn’t live in Magnussen’s office—she just performs a job there. And, once she has performed the job that is crucial to the arc of this romance—letting them in to Magnussen’s inner sanctum—she is incapacitated. Also incapacitated is a former criminal, representing Sherl’s work (that’s who his work involves, after all). Here, in the main room of the office, the only ones conscious, aware and sentient are Sherlock and John.

             Like Appledore, Magnussen’s flat is enormous, but very sparsely and carefully furnished. Sound like a certain consulting detective’s heart? Also note that the office has a few lights turned on, but is on the whole rather dark—Sherlock is in the process of opening himself, but he isn’t quite there yet.

            John can come into his heart with him, but Sherlock must seek out Magnussen alone. And, when Sherlock and Magnussen meet once again, Magnussen is in danger. Combined, these serve to foreshadow the ending. Sherlock must be the one to kill this part of himself, and Sherlock alone is able to do so. This is why Mary could never kill Magnussen. And for someone who hates Magnussen and is on Smallwood’s side, Sherlock sure is quick to (mistakenly) identify her as the murderer rather than waiting silently (as he does in ACD.) Sherlock doesn’t realize it consciously, but he is making sure that he will be the one to destroy his worst self. The logical thing for Mary to do would be to kill both Magnussen and Sherlock, but she doesn’t—this is the beginning of Sherlock separating from his old self.  And once she shoots, we see Sherlock’s most obviously emotional mind palace to date in the middle of Magnussen’s office. They really are hammering home how connected Sherlock’s emotions are to Magnussen’s locked rooms.         

Remember what I said about guns and penises being important later on? Well, Sherlock’s fatally wounded because Mary has the gun. Basically every time you see a gun on here it represents John and John’s penis. Don’t worry, we haven’t reached the big penis finale yet, though. I’ve got plenty more in store on that front. Continuing along that line, we get Mycroft teasing him for focusing too much on the gun (Mummy and Daddy won’t be pleased. Could this be part of the brothers’ repression?) He needs to focus on the whole room (his heart) and what’s behind him (a mirror, with himself reflected in fragments like CAM at 221B.) The way for him to survive the pain of Mary having the gun is to concentrate on his heart and his identity—he needs to be emotionally ready. And he still has a chance to change; the mirror didn’t shatter, his reflection is still there. And, realizing that, Sherlock makes a very deliberate choice to fall (in love. Wholeheartedly and consciously.)

            In his mind palace, Sherlock visits Moriarty (one of the only openly homosexual main male characters, and Sherlock’s mental representation of homosexuality) and asks him how to stop feeling this pain. Moriarty, (who Sherlock didn’t hate so much as fear and fail to understand) tells him not to fear it. Also note that Moriarty is, at this point, locked up in a padded cell in Sherlock’s mind. But by the end of the episode, good old Moriarty will be not just staying alive, but bringing John and Sherlock together by his public announcement of existence. Moriarty’s wellbeing directly tracks to Johnlock’s wellbeing, just as Magnussen’s wellbeing tracks to Sherlock and John’s biggest relationship problems.

            Back in the real world, John comes to aid Sherlock at the same time as CAM puts on his glasses. In case we needed another reference to the parallel.

             Moving on to the hospital, we see Janine acting as if she barely even had any feelings for the man she was so thrilled proposed to her. Janine was abused by Sherlock and, unlike John, gets up and brushes it off. We know that we’re about to see emotional growth from Sherl after the previous imagery, and that that maturation is going to be very pronounced. But, much like his initial greeting in TEH, he just insults Janine (“tabloid whore”) without apology. So his emotional maturation does not involve women—the gunshot is the point where the change started, so we should have gotten a big sign if this were to be what the growth entailed. But this is very typical Sherlock behavior. This is hugely important—it confirms that the Magnussen-is-an-asshat-to women imagery is not building up to treating women better romantically, but to accepting that women just aren’t Sherlock’s thang. No, his change will be all about John Watson. He and Janine could have been friends, but that’s all. Sherlock only apologizes in very special circumstances, and apparently this doesn’t even merit an apology, let alone a character change. I’m not saying that’s necessarily a good thing (I’d love more awesome and equal women on the show), but that is what’s written.

We don’t have to wait long to see the changes start, though. He instantly turns down his morphine (John doesn’t like it when he’s on drugs) and goes into his mind palace to 1. Figure out what he’ll have to do to save John and 2. _Understand what being John’s spouse means._ Learning about Mary corresponds to the moments we see him realize what he must do to mature himself. He isn’t deducing _Mary Morstan_ , Mary’s identity as an individual. He’s talking about the other Watson, and what that identity entails.

 More stairs—Mary climbing ominously up to John. No wrought iron hearts this time.

“Don’t be like all the rest.” Wiggins is speaking for Sherlock here. At this point, he’s already realized that John likes Mary because she isn’t like all the rest. And he’s discovered that he needs to give John every chance to turn him down, to be with Mary. This way, if Sherlock ever does get John (and I’m positive he will) Sherlock—and the audience—will know that it’s not coercion, not a second choice, not a default. You can also see this when, back at Baker Street, Sherlock implores them to “talk. Sort it out quickly.” Sherlock wants to get through this part as fast as he can, as it’s so painful for him. This is his first major stepping stone—being willing to give John a choice. He isn’t all the way there yet, though—he’s still doing it to get John himself. He’s still moved John’s chair back in.  In the world of storytelling, it can’t be that easy for Sherlock—it has to get worse before it can get better.

            The doctor’s wife is most definitely bored. Life as a couple doesn’t suit John or Mary—they both crave excitement but want someone else to give it to them, allowing them to keep up a façade of normalcy. They both need a Sherlock. And in fact, Sherlock is what’s holding their relationship together, making sure they each get just the right amount of adventure while knowing that he’s got the situation under control. But Sherlock hasn’t gone deep enough into self sacrifice yet! (apparently…)

The next step of sacrifice we see is Sherlock taking the case. Listen to the music playing as they all make their way to their seats—this is not the sound of a reunion. This is the sound of a goodbye. This is what Sherlock intends as their last case—or at least, the last case that he’ll force John into. This is the last hurrah of their dynamic as we’ve known it. (But it’s ok, that dynamic needed to change to make room for the new one—the one that’ll allow them to have the relationship that they’ll both deserve.) And as I said earlier, Sherlock learning more about what being The Other Watson entails, the better he becomes. I think this may be part of why a lot of the fandom still likes Mary—she will actually help bring John and Sherlock closer together, whether intentionally or not, by prompting Sherlock’s moments of growth. So far we’ve seen the growth, but not the closeness—which is what we’re being set up for in the coming seasons.

            In order to justify Mary’s behavior, Sherlock states “sentiment got the better of her.” Sound familiar? But the crucial difference between Sherlock and Mary is that Sherlock is learning that the way to feel sentiment without it “getting the better of him” is to love without expecting or demanding return. Mary’s sentiment harms, just as Sherlock’s has harmed in the past (the return in TEH, for example) because she desperately needs it to be returned. This is what Sherlock is working his way out of, growing past both Mycroft and Mary emotionally (these two represent opposing types of unhealthy reaction).

            Left to John, Sherlock says he would have bled out. He finds his way back using not just John, but John in relation to Mary (on a symbolic level, using her failing John to motivate himself, as well as her literal phone call) so that he doesn’t leave John with only memories of the Sherlock he knew. Not only does he need to protect John, he is unwilling to die as he was, a ridiculous man, leaving John to be tormented by memories of his worst self. When he dies, he wants to make sure that he takes all the worst parts of himself to the grave with him. 

“Magnussen is all that matters now. You can trust Mary.” Read this as a message from the writers: all that matters is Sherlock’s growth past his emotional childhood. Mary won’t get in the way when all is said and done. The biggest obstacle is Sherlock—and that’s a much smaller problem by the end of the episode. The writers acknowledge the “mixed messages” and let us know it’ll turn out ok. The way the shot is set up, we even get “Mary and John will only end up together over Sherlock’s dead body” imagery. And this is a show called “Sherlock.” Sherlock Holmes is not going to die.

   Jumping forward to the next Magnussen-related scene: it’s Christmas! And Sherlock and Mycroft are arguing about Magnussen’s purpose. Sherlock says that he hates Magnussen because he preys on peoples “secrets.” He doesn’t say differences (as is the canon implication.) The man he hates most uses secrets and the revelation thereof as leverage. Think about all the times Sherlock has used people’s secret attraction to him (to get into the morgue, to unravel a password, to fake his own death). Sherlock too is an intelligent businessman who Mycroft uses. Myc even talks about the utility of both Magnussen and Sherlock, within seconds of each other. And we see that Sherlock is no longer willing to be an instrument—he is very wiling to destroy the utility of two of his brother’s tools (Magnussen and himself) for the sake of John Watson. By shooting Magnussen, he takes himself out of commission as a tool, too (yes, Mycroft calls him back at the end, but he is no longer the good, reliable scalpel. He isn’t predictable anymore, and therefore is a very dangerous tool to use.) In case we didn’t already get the picture, Magnussen and Sherlock are tied—and especially when it comes to Mycroft. Mycroft, who created the cold Sherlock we know and love.

 Sherlock bursts in on John and Mary, whose conversation only takes a positive spin for John when Sherlock is brought up—watch the conversation closely and this is the first time we see an obvious grin (he has one very brief, tight-lipped smile earlier and that’s it, but watch his face as he talks about Sherlock’s “lovely mum and dad,” who, as we all know, mirror John and Sherlock as a couple.) To get to Magnussen, Sherlock has drugged everyone but himself and John (Billy doesn’t need to be as he knows he isn’t allowed to come along). This mirrors breaking into the flat—to get rid of Sherlock’s worst self, he has to narrow the world down to the two of them. That’s the only way Sherlock can grow—with John’s support and his own actions. All this happens as “The Game is On” plays (I believe—the soundtrack isn’t my forte). This is one of the songs we associate most with the show, reminding us that the heart of the story is the two of them, and just the two of them.

The “deal the devil” line leads nicely into the next scene, showing Magnussen and Sherlock’s one-on-one meeting. Especially in the first two series, there is a recurring motif of Sherlock having “sold his soul” for his magical deducing ability. Magnussen’s death will signal the end of that.

Only after being shot is Sherlock allowed (able) to confront Magnussen one-on-one like this. And we get a lot of red. In fact, this is one of Sherlock’s reddest scenes in the episode. You know, in case we didn’t already get that Magnussen+Sherlock=passion and devilishness. Interestingly enough, the colors are very similar to those of the courtroom in TSoT:

So, again, a callback to Sherlock in emotionally fraught situations that are subtextually related to his love for John Watson. We even have black on Magnussen’s side and white on Sherlock’s—but before this episode, Sherlock was on the dark side of the room.

             So, Sherlock calmly invites CAM to sit down, knowing full well that CAM is going to play with him like a toy, because he needs to fully face him to understand him. This is reminiscent of John coming back to Sherlock repeatedly, despite Sherlock’s abuse—Sherlock is using John’s patience as a model to help him end his Magnussen-self. With Sherlock, all growth can be directly traced back to John. Like John, he wants to be invited into the inner sanctum of his own heart. But this time around, he isn’t going to break in—he will let himself in, with John by his side, sacrificing his ties to Mycroft’s teaching to do so. But Sherlock still isn’t completely mature yet—he makes the mistake of thinking that the glasses (John) are a weakness. As we know from the end, Magnussen’s true weakness is his belief in his own infallibility. John is his strength, sharpening his vision not just of cases but also of himself. When he finds out that the glasses are not a portable Appledore, he calls them “just ordinary.” This is Sherlock’s (and Magnussen’s) mistake—the glasses are extraordinary, they manage to throw Sherlock off the scent of the true Appledore. But Sherlock and Magnussen do not see the extraordinary in the ordinary, even when it is literally right in front of his nose.

             We also see a new pressure point, morphine, just as we see in this episode (for the first time) that Sherlock cannot see the value of John when he is on drugs. Then Magnussen eats from a plate of hollow (Freud. Freud) pasta, flicks moisture off his hands, and leaves. Really going to town with the “straight!Sherlock is creepy” imagery, aren’t they.

            So, time for Sherlock and John to walk into Sherlock’s heart. “Magnussen is the most dangerous man you’ll encounter,” Sherlock tells John. And it’d take a reckless danger addict to have a chance at thwarting him. Just like John will help Sherlock thwart that side of himself. Mary doesn’t come along, although plot-wise that would make much more sense—she certainly would be an asset when it comes to doing whatever’s necessary to preserve her façade. But this is a mission for Sherlock and John. Because subtext.

             I told you there would be more gun-as-penis symbolism, right? Well, John’s just asked Sherlock “Why would I bring my gun to your parents’ house for Christmas dinner?” and brought it anyway. Hidden in the folds of his clothing (and by extension, in the straight-guy identity he’s created) is a gun ready to whip out for Sherlock, whenever the detective asks—regardless of whether it makes literal sense for him to have brought it to Christmas dinner. 

*Ominous music plays* Oh no! Not more natural curves!

Magnussen’s house sure has a lot of pale curves and bushes, doesn’t it? (Sorry, the Freud is overpowering.) So, Magnussen’s sitting in his pale, curvy, bushy house, sipping his rare whiskey (? Identifying drinks is very not my forte) and making sure nobody else gets any of it. He collects rarities (people, whiskeys, stories, John) for his enjoyment and makes sure nobody else gets them. Here we have foreshadowing of Sherlock’s last obstacle—he can’t just earn John. He has to let him go.

            Magnussen is the first to put into words, in front of John, how much Sherlock romantically cares about him. This is a callback to Irene in ASiB. But he does so equating John with a woman—which John isn’t pleased about. Like Sherlock in TSoT (“missing the obvious” that “it’s a man,”) Magnussen only understands John as a romantic interest if he’s equated with femininity (we live in a heteronormative world). Part of Sherlock’s killing his Magnussen-self is accepting John as a masculine figure. 

            “I’d never let you burn. I had people watching you” is quite reminiscent of Sherlock studying drugged John in THoB. And boy, does he see the wrongness of that now.

            Another interesting thing to note about Magnussen’s lair in this scene—we get a lot of shots showing the sky behind their heads. 

And the pattern of the glass looks as if the sky is shattering. This is a very, very big deal for Sherlock—he is turning his whole world upside down for John Watson.

            Magnussen isn’t “a murderer.” And neither is Sherlock—until he kills Magnussen.

            Once again, Sherlock wants desperately to know more about what being The Other Watson entails, and he wants to change the fact that it includes being “baaad.” He can’t rewrite the past, but he is trying to erase it. However, that too shows that he hasn’t yet reached full maturity (although he’s getting close). He can’t rewrite the past, but he can grow from it. He destroys the information about Mary’s old self (as far as we know) and his old self at the same time, but that won’t erase the wrongs that have been done. Sherlock is going to have to do something even more unbearably painful before he’s “fully atoned” (again, not my personal opinion.) Sherlock’s “one, enormous mistake” is thinking that it is enough for him to change. He has to leave, too. (But not for long! Praise Moriarty.) That is the last piece of this agonizing puzzle, and it’s what has to be done to prove (to himself, to John, to everyone—his shooting isn’t exactly private) that he is capable of putting John Watson first. His past actions are stored permanently in both men’s minds, so killing that part of himself isn’t enough. He has to prove capable of removing the thing that will trigger those memories in John—his presence. Unfortunately John “doesn’t understand” that this is why Sherlock will have to leave.

             Magnussen must be the one to take Sherlock to his own core, just as the rational side of him is both what helps him understand his heart (deducing himself into love) and prevents him from acting on his heart’s desires.

             Taking a brief detour to talk about white. 

Just about all of Magnussen’s house, and his entrance to his mind palace, is white. Normally, we think of villains as dark, yeah? Well, this sends us an important message. What does white symbolize? Purity. Innocence. And _virginity_. And here, it isn’t a good thing. This is a signal that John’s and Sherlock’s relationship will have to be sexual. That’ll be part of what makes it good and right, part of what’ll make it contrast Magnussen. We’re going to be saying goodbye to Virgin!Sherlock.

            Alright. Coming back to the plot, we have the face-flicking. This isn’t particularly dangerous physically, but it’s mentally excruciating. And this is exactly what Sherlock has been unknowingly doing to John for years. This is what will drive Sherlock over the edge, once and for all, into adulthood—seeing John Watson mentally/emotionally hurt by his actions.

            As Magnussen shouts that the Appledore vaults are “not real. They never have been,” the heart-wrenching music sets in. With their relationship as unbalanced as it was until now, Sherlock and John were not, could not have been in a true romantic relationship. They both need so much more. And thanks to what Sherlock is about to do, that’ll become more than possible. Sherlock’s shooting also shows us why Mary and John cannot work—Mary does try to erase her past, but she doesn’t grow beyond that enough to back that up with present actions. She doesn’t make a Sherlockian sacrifice. 

            Sherlock and Magnussen are the only two who openly state that they do not consider themselves villains or heroes. To the old Sherl, everything was a part of the game (his business.) Right and wrong were considered insignificant if they got in the way of that business. We even hear them say, one after another “I’m not a villain” and “I’m not a hero.”

            Mycroft is desperate to keep Magnussen alive. He lives in a very lonely world, and Sherlock is about to dispose of the brother he knows. From Sherlock’s point of view, though, he is going through the right-of-passage of ceasing dependency on his mother figure (remember “I’ll be mother?”).

            Did you think you’d escaped the gun-is-John’s-penis-and-by-extension-John-himself subtext? There’s no escaping the gun-as-penis-subtext. Mwahahahaha. Sherlock is about to kill Magnussen/the worst part of himself, using John’s gun/penis. The idea of John, and of sex with John in particular, is enough to turn Sherlock into a better person, someone worthy of romance and sex with John and his gun. Even knowing he’s about to distance himself from John for what he thinks is going to be the rest of his life, he chooses to shoot. He’d rather be worthy of John (and sex with John) and know he’ll never get it than have access he doesn’t deserve (as he has up until now.) So, to sum up, the idea of John’s dick turns Sherlock from a great man to a good one, and I have the maturity of a 12 year old. (I literally have written in my notes “John’s magical penis gives Sherlock his halo.” I’m not sorry.)

The music doesn’t swell when Sherlock shoots Magnussen. No, it grows only when Sherlock tells John to get away from him. That is the real climax. This is the final sacrifice, and the reason they can and _will_ end up together now—because he let him go. After all, the episode ends with Sherlock’s return. This is both why it’s ok for him to return, and why it probably won’t be a big deal in the upcoming series that Sherlock is now a murderer. Because Sherlock chose to leave, he has earned his right to stay, and because Sherlock killed a part of himself, on a subtextual level it isn’t murder but maturation (which is pretty icky in itself, but there you are.) That is what really brings him back, why Moriarty felt a bit gimmicky to some of us—because Moriarty is only a surface plot filler for the subtextual reason for Sherlock’s allowed return.

            All of this brings a new meaning to “Give my love to Mary. Tell her she’s safe now.” On a deeper level, it means that _the person right for John Watson_ has suddenly earned his place and is now safe both to love and to be loved. And from the subtext I’ve outlined (and more I have planned for another meta on the importance of Claire de la Lune), we know that Mary’s position, both in John’s heart and physically (because of Moriarty) is in no way safe. But because Sherlock is willing to surrender the love that was his to Mary, he is, paradoxically, assured that same love. (And besides, we all know that John can’t transfer all of his feelings cleanly from Sherlock onto Mary anyways.)

Mycroft is “never wrong” about death. But Sherlock has now learned not to trust him about the things that make life worth living.

             And of course, the episode ends with Moriarty’s and Sherlock’s simultaneous returns. And if there’s one character we can trust to bring the subtextual gay up to the surface, it’s him. Yes, Jim, we did miss you. 

 


End file.
